


More Than Friends

by Maiika



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Past Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Past Vegeta/Bulma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiika/pseuds/Maiika
Summary: They’ve been friends for years.  So it comes as a surprise to both of them that now, when they’re both in established relationships, the enduring flame of their friendship grows into a blaze.





	More Than Friends

**Author's Note:**

> The author has no dislike for either of the two canon ships being broken in this fic, but if you can't stand to see your canon OTP broken up, even in an AU setting, maybe this isn't the fic for you.

 

It isn’t ready yet.  

 

Bulma glares into the glowing microwave, watching the contents spin as she taps her foot on the linoleum.  She wants to hear the sweet sound of popping. She wants that salty, mouthwatering smell to permeate the apartment.  But it spins silently.  _ Something _ needs to explode.  She taps her foot faster and lets out a growl.  Oh well, if it isn’t going to be the popcorn, might as well be her.

 

“Bulma,” Goku calls from the couch, “d’you wanna talk about it?”

 

Bulma expels all her pent-up frustration in a laugh, rather than the scream she had planned.  She laughs because his tone is paradoxical to his words. She’s never heard such a harmless question asked so fearfully.   _ Goku _ isn’t even the one with whom she’s angry.  He has no reason to fear her response. It must be the Chi-Chi-training causing him to jump to such a reaction.  Bulma shakes her head as she blows wisps of bangs from her eyes and turns to peer past the kitchen counter at Goku with a reassuring smile. Goku stares back at her with possibly more fear in his dark eyes than was evident in his tone.  It feels good having someone focus on her with such concern, even if he  _ is _ doing it because they’re the only two people in this apartment and he knows how Bulma tends to erupt when she’s angry.

 

_ Pop _ .

 

The first kernel explodes like a vacuum-seal release on Bulma’s anger.  She strolls toward the couch with a sigh, releasing what little remains of her fury.  She tries to focus on the barrage of popping now coming from the microwave, and that sweet smell filling the kitchen, rather than letting her mind wander back to that asshole.  She wants to have fun. She wants to forget about  _ him _ for a while.  No better way to do it than with her best friend.  

 

Bulma plops into the leather seat beside Goku.  “No. I don’t want to talk about it. I want to eat popcorn.  I want to spend time with  _ you _ .  How’ve you been?”  Bulma blinks and pans her gaze across the empty apartment, noticing just now that the only trace of Goku’s girlfriend is her tweed jacket hanging on the coat rack.  “Where’s Chi-Chi tonight?”

 

“She went to her Dad’s,” Goku says, his bright eyes going dark.

 

“Oh.”  

 

Bulma presses her lips together.  If Chi-Chi won’t be back for awhile, she really does have Goku to herself for the night.  A thrill runs through her and she beams at Goku, throwing her fist in the air.

 

“Yes!” she says.  “Just me and you then.  We’re going to have so much fun tonight!”

 

_ Beep-beep-beep. _

 

The popcorn’s ready.  Bulma shoots to her feet, but Goku is two steps ahead of her, as he always is in the case of food.  He’ll be two steps ahead of her in  _ eating _ it, too.  Bulma narrows her eyes and sprints after him into his dimly lit kitchenette.  He’s already at the microwave, pulling out the popcorn bag by the hot oiled corners, as if it doesn’t scorch his fingers.  He probably _ doesn’t _ feel a thing.  Sometimes Bulma thinks Goku’s made out of stone.  He certainly  _ looks _ the part with his chiseled muscles and jawline, not a single imperfection on his body.  And that means  _ all _ of his body.  Bulma’s had more than a fair share of eyefuls of her best friend over the years.  The man may as well have been carved by Michelangelo. She kind of hates him for that, not that  _ she’s _ any shoddy piece of work herself.

 

“Give me that!” Bulma says, smacking Goku’s hand and reaching for the dry rim of the paper bag.  “You need to learn to  _ share _ , Goku!”

 

Goku licks his lips and fixes his gaze on the steam that rises from the popcorn bag as Bulma pulls the seal apart.  “It just smells so good!”

 

Bulma ignores his comment as she pours the popcorn into the wide plastic bowl she’d set out.  “What do you say while we’re both sans-partners, we play a game tonight?”

 

“A game?” Goku blinks, but doesn’t tear his eyes from the fluffy yellow balls cascading into the popcorn bowl.  “Oh! I have a  _ new _ one!  I’ll grab the controllers!”

 

“Controllers?” Bulma wrinkles her nose as Goku brushes past and she tosses the empty bag into the can at her hip.  “Goku-“

 

“I’ve been waiting to play this thing all week, but Chi-Chi won’t play it with me and Krillin’s been out of town.”

 

Bulma frowns as she turns to see Goku bent in front of his TV console, digging out two controllers and a game case.  Video games weren’t exactly the idea she had in mind, but he’s so clearly excited about it, she finds it hard to say no.  She also feels sorry for him, knowing he’s been looking for someone to play with all week. Besides, it’s Goku. Whatever they do together, Bulma knows it will be fun.

 

“Okay,” Bulma says as she approaches the couch and pops a salty kernel into her mouth.  It crunches between her teeth and oozes buttery satisfaction around her tongue. “What’s the object of the game?”

 

“Kill as many enemies as possible,” Goku says, handing her a controller and clenching the other in his hand, “and don’t die.”

 

“Okay.”  Bulma brushes the salt and butter from her fingers and licks her lips.  “Sounds simple enough.”

 

She sets the popcorn bowl between them and takes her seat on the couch.  With both hands positioned on the controller, she narrows her eyes at the introduction playing on the screen.  A large muscled man with a thick neck, a more compact roguish man who kind of reminds her of Vegeta, and a sexy blonde bombshell in artillery are featured in the game.  She already knows how she wants to play this.

 

“I’m going to be the sexy, badass woman,” she says.

 

“You already are,” Goku says, matter-of-factly.

 

Bulma shoots him a glance. His eyes widen as Bulma looks meaningfully at the screen.  Goku’s eyes follow hers. His jaw drops. In typical Goku fashion, he laughs off his blunder.

 

“Oh!” he says, rubbing the back of his head.  “In the  _ game _ .  Yeah, sure, you can be her.”

 

Bulma stifles her giggle behind a tight-lipped smile.  She doesn’t want to make Goku uncomfortable or embarrassed (not that she’s convinced Goku  _ can _ feel embarrassment), but she feels giddy about what he just said.  

 

She can’t resist the urge to ask, “You think I’m a badass?”

 

Goku shoots her a confident grin.  “And sexy. Yeah.”

 

“Wow,” Bulma says, her heart fluttering as she takes in the brief smolder in Goku’s eyes and returns his smile with a teasing wink.  “What would Chi-Chi think if she heard you talking like this?”

 

Goku shrugs sharply.  “What? I’m just bein’ honest.  I tell her the same thing all the time.  I don’t think she’d care.”

 

Bulma’s smile withers.  “You tell her the same thing all the time, huh?”

 

“Bulma,” Goku hisses, narrowing his eyes at the TV.  “Focus on the game. You’re going to get us killed in the first round!”

 

“Oh!” Bulma shifts her gaze to the screen flashing with the prompts to begin.  “Right.”

 

Bulma doesn’t know this game, but when all else fails, wiggling the joystick and punching the buttons seems to do the trick.  It doesn’t. “Shit!”

 

Her player is ducking around like an asshole.  She’s taking a beating. Bulma peers sidelong at Goku and sees his tongue jutting out between his lips, his bottom scooched to the edge of the couch, his hands clenched in a white knuckled grip around the controller, his fingers moving rapidly.  On the screen, his character is kicking ass.

 

“What are you waiting for, Bulma?” he says.

 

Bulma huffs and tries pressing the buttons in different combinations, a little harder than she needs to.  Goku doesn’t notice her frustration with the game. He actually thinks she hasn’t started trying yet. She steals a glance at his controller and mimics his movements.  Her character seizes the nearest man and throws him over her shoulder before kicking his face in.

 

“Ah-ha!” Bulma bounces in her seat.

 

“Aren't you going to tell me why you came over?” Goku says abruptly.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s about Vegeta, right?”

 

He’s still playing, still has his eyes fixed on the screen, but Bulma senses him watching her from the corner of his eye.  Bulma swallows. Now that she’s had time to cool off, now that she’s taken her mind off her infuriatingly detached boyfriend, she supposes she can talk about him.  With a long sigh, Bulma decides to take advantage of the loading screen ushering them into their next round. She turns to Goku, pressing her knees against his.

 

“You really want to know?”

 

He nods.  “Yeah.”

 

Bulma doesn’t know where to start.  Every attempt she makes to put it into words makes her sound petty and unreasonable.  Goku will think she’s making a big deal out of nothing.  _ She _ knows it’s not nothing, but there isn’t one thing in particular she can pinpoint as the culprit of tonight’s disastrous blowout.  With a growl, she turns to the TV prompting them to begin again.

 

“It’s nothing,” she snaps as she yanks on the joystick and thrusts her thumb into the buttons.  “That jerk can stew in it for a while. I’m not letting it ruin  _ my _ night.”

 

Her shoulders sag as the screen becomes a blur of vague movements.  The more her mind focuses on the drama in her head, the more the action on the screen fades away.  She wishes she could go home tonight and  _ know _ Vegeta will be there waiting with an apology.  There’s a small chance. Mostly, she’d say it’s safe to say he  _ won’t _ be there.  He’s too proud to ever admit he was wrong.  He won’t even discuss it. He’s built a wall around himself and Bulma can’t seem to find her way in.  It’s frustrating. It’s infuriating!

 

She pauses the game and whirls on Goku as she tosses her controller at the emptied popcorn bowl between them.  “I’m so sick of his shit!  _ That’s _ my problem!  How am I supposed to be a good girlfriend, or claim to have any feelings for him, or give him mind-blowing sex, when he won’t ever communicate with me!  The man’s a block of ice! I’m not a mind reader.”

 

As Bulma crosses her arms, Goku’s eyes wander Bulma’s face as if they can’t decide a point to land on.  His cheeks are a faint shade of red, which Bulma detects even in this odd white light coming off the TV screen.  She gasps as she realizes he’s allowed her to spew this entire tirade without saying a word. He probably wasn’t expecting it either.  He  _ couldn’t _ be prepared when she’d just prefaced the tirade with “I don’t want to talk about it.”  

 

She smiles apologetically.  To her surprise, Goku looks saddened by her smile.  His lips turn down at the corners and now  _ his _ shoulders sag as his controller slips from his fingers and lands on the couch.  It  _ can’t _ be her smile making him sad.  She looks around the apartment for clues to what - besides  _ herself _ \- can possibly be making this usually cheerful man grim.  She sees a crumpled yellow note on the kitchen counter. The trash can, topped by their greasy popcorn bag, is full.  A glance through the open bedroom door reveals an unmade bed, clothes on the floor, and darkness. Bulma gasps when she realizes there is no sign of Chi-Chi’s tidiness in the apartment.  She knits her brows at Goku. He said she’d gone to her father’s.

 

Bulma taps her fingernail lightly on her folded arms, trying to look casual.  “Why did Chi-Chi go to her father’s? Did you two...have a fight?”

 

Goku averts his eyes from Bulma’s.  He stares into the popcorn bowl riddled with unpopped kernels.  “I messed up.”

 

“What?  How?”

 

He glances up, giving Bulma a small smile.  “Today was our anniversary. Did you know that?”

 

Bulma blinks.  “No.”

 

His smile turns wry.  “Well, neither did I.” He takes a backwards plunge into the couch with a massive sigh.  “I don’t think I’ll ever get this relationship stuff right.”

 

“Hey,” Bulma says softly, placing her hand on Goku’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.  “You forgot about a date. An important date, but any of us could make that mistake.”

 

Goku levels Bulma a look.  “Two years in a row?”

 

Bulma holds her breath and blows it out in a rush.  “Sure, any of us could…” she winces. “Well I mean, you’re  _ Goku _ .  You just don’t...think the same way most of us do.  Chi-Chi knew that when she got together with you. If she really loves you, she’ll accept that.  She’ll be back.”

 

Goku eyes Bulma as he licks his lips.  “You think so?”

 

Bulma can’t believe she came here to use Goku as a sounding board, to blow off steam at his place without realizing the severity of  _ his _ problem.  Bulma knows Vegeta will be back - when he’s ready.  But Chi-Chi  _ might not _ come back.  Bulma can’t promise Goku that she will.  Most girls wouldn’t be able to handle Goku’s unique way of expressing his affection.  Bulma can’t hold Chi-Chi to that expectation. Chi-Chi is a nice girl. Chi-Chi deserves a good guy, which Goku  _ is _ .  But Bulma understands if the girl’s patience has been tested one too many times.

 

Bulma growls under her breath and runs her fingers through her scalp.  “I can’t believe you let me vent about Vegeta on  _ your _ ruined anniversary, Goku!”

 

He chuckles, looking sheepish.  “Ah, I could tell you needed to blow off some steam.”

 

Bulma shakes her head and throws her arms around Goku, breathing in remnants of soap smell off his warm neck.  “I’m so sorry about Chi-Chi leaving. You’re the sweetest guy. She’s  _ got _ to come back to you, once she’s had time to cool off.  She’d be crazy not to.”

 

When Bulma pushes off from Goku’s broad shoulders to look into his eyes, she smiles.  Goku’s smile slowly grows until Bulma believes it’s actually genuine.

 

“Thanks, Bulma,” Goku says.

 

Bulma smooths her hair and fixes her gaze on the frozen figures on the TV.  Straightening her dress over her thighs, she tries to look at Goku, but finds that task strangely difficult.  Heat rises to her cheeks, which makes her even more baffled than she already is. It’s like she’s having feelings  _ stronger _ than the friendly feelings she’s felt for Goku all these years.  Something different than she’d feel for even a beloved brother. She presses her lips together as she notices the air growing thick around her.  She needs to shake this off. This is Goku. He wants to get back with Chi-Chi. Bulma needs to make up with Vegeta.

 

“So?” Bulma clears her throat and reaches for her controller.  “Best two out of three?”

 

Goku scratches his head.  “It’s a  _ cooperative _ game, Bulma.”

 

“Right,” Bulma says with a grimace.

 

Goku makes a sound, something indecipherable that chokes off before he extends his hand toward her and then withdraws it into his lap.  Bulma is able to look into his eyes this time, and what she sees on his handsome face is hesitation. So  _ he _ feels it, too.

 

He gnaws his bottom lip.  “Are you and Vegeta gonna be alright?  I can talk to him for y-“

 

“No!” Bulma says, her eyes widening as she imagines Vegeta’s reaction to  _ Goku _ having a talk with him.  It would be funny, if she didn’t truly believe he’d try to kick Goku’s ass for imposing - and probably lose.  

 

Bulma snorts a laugh and shakes off her errant imaginings.  “Don’t worry. I know how to deal with Vegeta at times like this.”

 

“Oh?” Goku raises his brows.  “How?”

 

Bulma sends him a smirk.  “I scream at him for a while, let him holler, and then end the fight with makeup sex.  By the time we’re done, he’s completely forgotten what we were fighting about.”

 

Goku blinks, returns his attention to the game, and with the push of a button, the figures resume movement.  Blasts and voices play from the TV. Bulma plays through the level with Goku in amiable silence. She feels subdued - at ease.  She knows what she told Goku is true. She probably  _ will _ make up with Vegeta, as usual.  And then they’ll continue on their merry way as always.

 

Goku turns to Bulma, angling his entire rippling physique her way.  “Why’d you come here tonight, then?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“If you could’ve just fixed it by yelling it out and having a little makeup sex, like you said,” he says with a shrug, “then why didn’t you do that in the first place?”

 

Bulma sputters in response.  She realizes she has no answer.  She  _ could’ve _ done that from the beginning.  Usually, she would. Instead, she’d wanted Goku.  She’d called him and screamed in his ear. She’d trekked over to his apartment.  She knew there was a chance Chi-Chi would be here, but she came anyway. She’d been glad to find him alone.  

 

“Well,” Goku drawls, side-eying her, “maybe if that really works,  _ I _ should give it a try.”

 

“Really?”  It’s Bulma’s turn to raise her brows.  “You think Chi-Chi would go for that?”

 

Goku considers, then winces.  “She might feel more like killing me.”

 

“Yeah,” Bulma says, gritting her teeth.  “I wouldn’t recommend the method for  _ you _ .”

 

Goku shrugs and laughs.  “Ah well. You’re right about one thing, Bulma.  Chi-Chi always comes back. It’s ‘cause she can’t resist my good looks.”

 

Bulma laughs at the wag of Goku’s head and shoves him by the shoulder.  “You arrogant moron.”

 

Goku steals the last kernel of popcorn from the bowl, one which looks more like a golden unpopped kernel than yellow popcorn, and pops it into his mouth with a resounding crunch.  Bulma is mesmerized by the way his jaw flexes as he chews. He is beaming, he is confident, and he looks beautiful. He has a right to be arrogant. He has so much to offer.

* * *

It’s almost time.

 

The movie starts in twenty minutes and Chi-Chi doesn’t want him to be late.  Goku hops to slip his second boot over his foot while she yells at him through the doorway.  He grabs his wallet from the dresser and opens the door to find the apartment empty. Chi-Chi’s gone ahead without him.  He shakes his head and smiles as he heads out the door. His girlfriend has to be the most impatient person he knows.

 

When they get to the theater late, Goku realizes that perhaps Chi-Chi  _ isn’t _ the most impatient person he knows.  Bulma and Vegeta both shoot daggers with their glares when he meets them.  They know their tardiness isn’t Chi-Chi’s fault. Bulma, specifically, chews Goku out all the way to the concession stand and into the darkened theater, until enough people shush her. Vegeta leads the way into the aisle, silent, but his anger just as palpable as Bulma’s.  Goku follows after Bulma, pressing his hand against her lower back as he hurries her into the aisle. She doesn’t flinch, but hums curiously at the contact. When she trips over something in the dark, nearly falling into the aisle below them, Goku catches her by the waist.  Her midriff top exposes her skin, which is warm and soft beneath Goku’s fingertips. It seems to burn him, sending tingles from his fingertips through his entire body. He lets go of her as quickly as if she’s on fire.

 

Bulma rounds on him.  “What the hell is the matter with you?  I thought you were helping me  _ not _ fall!”

 

“Quiet!” yells a voice from the dark upper aisles.

 

“You shut up!” Bulma snaps back at them.

 

“Bulma,” Chi-Chi hisses, “take a seat already.  This is  _ embarrassing _ .”

 

His girlfriend is stuck as the caboose of their derailed train in mid-aisle.  They need to sit fast before  _ she _ explodes.  Goku straightens and sucks in his chest, as if any sudden movement from Bulma might put him in contact with her and this contact could cause a nuclear reaction.  What he’d experienced just now wasn’t far from it. He shivers at the thought of her silky skin. He hasn’t reacted like that to touching Chi-Chi in months. It scares him.  He should only feel these tingles for her, but the smallest touch with Bulma has his heart racing.

 

Goku takes his seat, sandwiched between Bulma and Chi-Chi in the dark theater.  The music plays from the surround speakers as Goku eases into his padded seat. At least, he  _ tries _ to ease into it and relax, but he can’t.  Chi-Chi’s hand resting comfortably over his now slides up his arm.  She’s about to wrap around him like she usually does, which gets so uncomfortable after the first few minutes.

 

“Goku,” Bulma whispers at his other side, “popcorn?”

 

Goku reaches for the rustling bag thrust in his face, but hesitates.  He sets his eyes on the bag and exactly where Bulma holds it before pinching his fingers around the top edge where he knows he won’t skim her skin.  He wants popcorn but he doesn’t want to risk another surge of...of...whatever it is he’s feeling for Bulma now. He munches on popcorn, hugs the bag, and turns his attention to the latest trailer flashing on the movie screen.

 

“You’re acting strange tonight,” Bulma says, poking his elbow.

 

Goku tenses at the simple touch.  She’s done it again. She broke down his usually impenetrable defenses with a simple touch.  While Chi-Chi’s wringing her fingers around his other arm in a vice-like grip, it’s his other elbow that aches to be touched again.  He crosses one leg over the other and slouches in his seat. He evades Bulma’s gaze, which he feels gliding over him every few minutes.  He tries to concentrate on the movie, but that attempt has failed so miserably that he can’t even remember what they’re watching. When he shifts again, he tries to pry his arm free of Chi-Chi’s grasp.  To his surprise, she complies.

 

Chi-Chi slides gracefully from her seat as she whispers in his ear, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

 

When she turns, Bulma flinches.  “Ooh! Wait!” She shoots to her feet.  “I’ll come with you.”

 

Goku sinks into his chair as Bulma steps over his feet, her ass passing right by his face and blocking the movie screen.  He can’t help but look. He licks his lips and swears he feels sweat bead on his forehead as her thighs skim his and the swells of her ass cheeks jiggle ever so slightly when she steps down, breaking free of his legs.  He tries not to watch as Chi-Chi and Bulma proceed down the aisle. He keeps his head fixed straight ahead, but from the corner of his eyes, he notices how her hips shake. Bulma. His friend. He rubs a hand down his face and wills himself to stop this.  He casts a glance at Vegeta down the aisle and issues a nervous smile when Vegeta’s head snaps in his direction. Vegeta would kill him if he knew what’s going through Goku’s mind tonight. He’s here on a double date with  _ Chi-Chi _ .  With Vegeta and Bulma.  Nothing could ever happen between him and Bulma.  There’s too much history between them anyway. Even if they were both single, it would be weird.

 

Goku closes his eyes and expels a harsh breath.  If it’s weird, why is his mind returning to it? Why does everything tingle and  _ harden _ when he unwittingly finds his mind focused on her?

 

The girls’ return subjects Goku to another tortuous crossing.  His legs are crossed tightly by the time Bulma’s seated. Chi-Chi’s hands, still moist from the hand-washing, glide along his forearm.  They’re soft and cool...and gentle. Before she can wrap around him, Goku presses his other hand on top of hers, stilling Chi-Chi’s hand with express endearment.

 

Chi-Chi hums and leans into him, pressing her lip against the shell of his ear.  “I’ve got some new lingerie to show you tonight.”

 

Goku gasps.  This is an unusual surprise from Chi-Chi, who usually doesn’t like to squander her money on such things (being naked is free).  He swallows to purge the dryness from his throat. He has no doubt Chi-Chi will fill out that lingerie stunningly. And she’ll have the moves to back up the outfit.  When his eyes meet hers, Chi-Chi’s dark eyes blaze with promises of passion. Goku smiles at her and shudders when he thinks of returning home. As Chi-Chi crosses her shapely legs, revealing smooth thigh to his wanton eyes, he feels the warm touch of Bulma’s arm brushing against his.  Goku hisses a curse under his breath, which thankfully no one seems to notice. Through the rest of the movie, he can’t get Bulma out of his mind.

 

She remains at the forefront of his thought for the remainder of the evening.  Even the part with the red satin lingerie.

* * *

It’s getting late, but he’s still here.

 

Bulma watches with furrowed brows as Goku passes his hands through his hair.  He sits on her tufted sofa, tapping his foot. His knees bounce and he doesn’t look at her.  Bulma bites her bottom lip. She hates seeing him this way. 

 

The trill of clinking glasses breaks the silence as Bulma collects their whiskeys from the counter.  Goku needs a drink to take the edge off. If Bulma’s being honest with herself, she could use one, too.  It’s not like the whiskey can wash his troubles away but...she feels the whiskey will aid her in comforting him. As her weight sinks into the cushion beside him and the pair of club glasses in her hands clink against the glass coffee table, Bulma frowns at Goku’s lack of responsiveness.  She  _ hopes _ there’s something she can do.

 

“Here,” she says as she slides the whiskey toward him.  “Have a drink.”

 

Goku shakes his head, his gaze set on his lap.  “I’m not thirsty.”

 

Bulma smiles and seeks his gaze.  “Food, then?”

 

“I don’t-“ Goku’s words cut off sharply as he looks at her, their eyes meeting for maybe the first time since he walked through her door.  He grabs the glass, downs the 8oz drink as if it’s a shot and says, “Well, okay.”

 

Bulma laughs, but her laughter isn’t light as usual.  There’s a heaviness in the room, even as she walks toward the kitchen with her whiskey in hand and opens her pantry door.  She sips the harsh liquor which burns at her throat. She can’t believe Chi-Chi. She reaches for a bag of pretzels and shakes her head.  She  _ can _ believe Chi-Chi, but this isn’t fair to Goku, either.

 

When Bulma turns to face the sofa again, Goku’s staring at her.  The look in his dark eyes is resolved and solemn. She can tell by the shadows on his face that he hasn’t shaved or slept, as proven by the bags forming under his eyes.  Yet, incredibly, he still looks handsome. If possible, he's even  _ more _ eye-catching in this disheveled state.

 

Goku sighs.  “Maybe I should go back and tell her I’ll do it.”

 

Bulma’s eyes bulge as she races to him. She throws down the crinkling pretzel bag, downs her whiskey and slams her glass on the table.  “No! Goku, you can’t do that!”

 

He places his head in his hands, holding it as if his mind is about to explode.  “But I don’t want to lose Chi-Chi!”

 

Bulma sits beside him and moves so close her leg presses against his as she seizes his hands in hers.  “Asking you to quit fighting is like asking me to quit  _ breathing _ .  It’s what you do, Goku.  It’s practically...who you  _ are _ .”

 

Goku’s frown deepens.  “I know. But Chi-Chi-“

 

“Wants you to be the man she needs,” Bulma says, feeling heat and dizziness rush to her head as she spews the hard truth, words which might make things worse for Goku rather than better.  “If she needs a man who doesn’t spend as much time training as you do, then you’re just not that man, Goku.”

 

He flinches as if he’s been hit.  Bulma releases his hands, worried he might not react well to being held.  She scoots back. He probably doesn’t want her close to him. Now she’s the bitch who told him he’s not good enough for someone.  Goku’s going to hate her. She should’ve told him what he wants to hear - either that Chi-Chi never should’ve set that ultimatum or that she’ll come back to him anyway.  She realizes with grating anxiety that this may be the end of their friendship. Bulma brings her nails to her teeth and gnaws as she sets her eyes on him and waits. 

 

Vegeta should’ve been home by now.  Maybe when he finally gets his ass home, a talk with another guy will make this go down easier for Goku.  Though, Goku’s probably better off talking to Krillin or one of his real friends. Bulma furrows her brows.  Goku came to her. He could’ve gone to Krillin’s, but he came here. It couldn’t be to talk to her. Maybe he  _ is _ looking for Vegeta and doesn’t like Bulma assuming he was here for her.  Maybe she’s adding to his stress, rather than giving him useful advice.

 

She places her hand lightly on Goku’s still-trembling knee.  “Did you want to talk to Vegeta?”

 

Goku shoots her a glance.  “Huh?”

 

“He should be home soon.”  Bulma narrows her eyes. “He should’ve been home an hour ago, actually.  You know what? Let me call him.”

 

“Oh, Bulma,” Goku says as Bulma reaches for her phone on the coffee table and speed dials Vegeta’s number.  “You don’t have to-“

 

“Vegeta!” Bulma says to Vegeta’s grunt of a greeting following the ringing of his phone.  “Your friend is here waiting for you. You were supposed to be home by now. Where are you?”

 

Bulma frowns as Vegeta dismisses her entire notion of his friendship, then proceeds to harp on Bulma for thinking she has any right to keep tabs on him. While Goku’s eyes focus on her with concern, likely regarding the frown marring her face, Vegeta informs her that earlier at the gym, he was offered a great training opportunity out of town.  He’s left already and doesn’t know when he’ll be back. Bulma scoffs and pans her gaze across the apartment. Vegeta usually keeps things neat, so it’s no surprise she hasn’t seen his belongings. Nothing would be askew out  _ here _ .  

 

She shoots to her feet and runs into the bathroom, flinging open the medicine cabinet while Vegeta drones on about the top-of-the-line training he’s about to receive.  His toothbrush is gone. His razor is gone. The only trace left of Vegeta is a note he left here for her to buy him more shaving cream before he returns.

 

“Son of a bitch!” Bulma screams, hoping it hurts his ears.  “You’re serious? You could  _ tell _ me this before you made this decision that affects me, too, you know!  You couldn’t even wait to say goodbye? You - you just up and  _ left _ ?  I thought you were  _ done _ with this.”

 

Bulma cuts off his ‘yes’ with a crescendoing growl.  She throws her phone in the sink, not caring whether it hangs up the call or leaves Vegeta’s Bluetooth drowning in cacophonous metallic noises.  She’s ready to rip something apart or throw something through the wall when warm and gentle pressure touches her shoulders. It stills her and sends calm from the center of that touch down to her toes.  Her  _ mind _ isn’t calmed, though.  It’s a torrent of emotion.  She heaves a few breaths as Goku’s soft breath ghosts against the back of her neck, batting fine hairs against her skin.  She’s so sorry for him. She’s even sorry for Chi-Chi. She’s mostly sorry for herself.

 

Bulma turns and wraps her arms around Goku’s broad, solid back, planting her face against his pecs that seem to ripple the moment she touches him.  After a moment of hesitation, his arms wrap around her, too - a blanket of warm, solid security. She can always rely on Goku. He’ll always be here when she needs him.  She’ll never let him down either. She presses away from his chest and looks into his innocent eyes, knowing he needs no explanation. He overheard the conversation, and he understands better than anyone the way she feels right now.  A tear prickles at Bulma’s eye and before she can think to bat it away, Goku’s hand is there, gently whisking it off her cheek. His touch is like fire. Bulma leans into it, wanting to feel more. She wants to feel so much more. She wants to feel loved and wanted.  Goku won’t abandon her.

 

“Goku…” she says wantonly, hopefully.

 

Goku’s eyes linger on her.  He seems to stop breathing. He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs before Bulma’s eyes, accentuating the corded muscles of his neck.  His lips part ever so slightly as Bulma’s eyes wander from his neck to his face. She is drawn to his lips. She licks hers as she heaves a sigh.

 

“I’m sorry,” Goku says, placing a soft hand at the back of Bulma’s neck as his eyes lower to Bulma’s lips.

 

Tension mounts.  Bulma wants more than anything to kiss him right now.  She thinks he wants it too, judging by the way he moves toward her and touches her.  Bulma heaves a sigh and then another as she builds up the nerve. 

 

Goku won’t abandon her.  

 

She loops her arms around his neck, pulling him down to crush her lips against his.  It is forceful and needy, but she doesn’t care if Goku feels the need behind her kiss.  It’s Goku. He  _ knows _ her; he wants to kiss her, too.  His lips taste like whiskey, incredibly soft, trembling against Bulma’s mouth.  He moans before he juts out his tongue to slide along Bulma’s lower lip. Bulma shivers as she parts her lips, wanting nothing more than to taste.  Her best friend. She feels tremendous love behind this kiss, in a way she never has with a past boyfriend. Or current boyfriend. Oh God.

 

She pulls away.  “Vegeta!”

 

Goku flinches, narrowing his eyes at her.  “Vegeta?”

 

“And Chi-Chi,” Bulma says, clapping her hand over her tingling lips as she realizes how much more sorry she feels for Chi-Chi now.

 

“Bulma,” Goku says with a frown, “Vegeta just  _ left _ you.  And Chi-Chi doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

 

“She’s just saying that because she wants you to change,” Bulma blurts, pushing away from Goku so she can pace away her anxiety.  “And Vegeta...is an asshole, but he’s coming back. He’s…” she meets Goku’s eyes as she makes a turn and sees the realization slowly dawning.  She’s never felt so ironically disappointed as she says, “he’s coming back.”

* * *

He wonders if this is the right moment to tell her.  It’s awkward with Bulma. They haven’t seen each other since the kiss, not in person.  Even on the phone, they’ve avoided the subject. He hasn’t heard a word about Vegeta from her either, and selfishly, he hopes things have ended between them.  Bulma must think he’s back together with Chi-Chi by now. But she was right that night. He couldn’t give in to his girlfriend’s ultimatum. He couldn’t give up being a fighter, not for anything or anyone.

 

He gave Chi-Chi time, thinking she might come around.  But the more days that pass away from her, the more he’s had time to think.  At this point, he’s reached an unexpected conclusion and it frightens him. He can’t get that kiss out of his head.  He can’t get  _ Bulma _ out of his head.  He thinks about her every waking second.  The more he thinks about her, the more beautiful and flawless and sexy she is in his mind.  It scares him, having feelings like this for his friend. It  _ scares _ him, thinking she might not have the same feelings.

 

Goku startles.  There’s a knock at his door, soft and polite.  He isn’t expecting anyone, so his heart pounds as he approaches his door to answer the recognizably feminine knock.  It could be Chi-Chi. She could be coming back to make amends finally, to say she accepts him as he is and will love every part of him as long as they can be together.  He shouldn’t, but part of Goku hopes it’s Bulma. She has no reason to be here, aside from venting about Vegeta’s extended absence or finally starting the conversation they’ve been skirting around these past weeks.  

 

Either possibility frightens Goku.

 

With a deep breath, he reaches for the knob.  He pulls the door wide open, gasping when he sees who’s on the other side.  Bulma’s blue eyes stare back at him. Somewhat cryptically, she smiles up at him.  Her blue shimmering hair falls in sheets over her bare shoulders, her colorful floral sundress glides over her curves.  She looks perfect. She looks exactly as he remembers her. Goku’s lips part but he can’t seem to summon any words. He doesn’t know why Bulma’s here, but she isn’t angry.  She doesn’t look like she’s hesitant to disappoint him. She looks...determined.

 

“Hi,” she says.

 

Goku cocks his head.  “Bulma?”

 

Bulma’s eyes dart side to side, looking beyond him into the apartment.  “Is Chi-Chi here?”

 

Goku rubs his head and looks over his shoulder as if searching for a ghost.  “No. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that…”

 

Bulma breezes past him, surveying the apartment with her eyes as she sets her purse on the kitchen counter.  Her demeanor is all business. Goku furrows his brows as he closes the apartment door. 

 

“Are you  _ looking _ for Chi-Chi?” he says, pressing his shaking hands into his pockets.  “Because you won’t find her here. She’s moved out.”

 

Bulma releases a tremendous breath as if she’s been holding it since she knocked on the door.  A smile spreads across her face. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Goku says, frowning as Bulma saunters toward him, picking up speed to close the space between them before he can say another word. “Uh-“

 

Bulma smothers his words with soft lips.  Her teeth graze his top lip and Goku shivers.  He didn’t anticipate this and the surprise has him wobbling.  His knees want to collapse and he feels like only Bulma holds him upright as she places a hand on his waist and presses her body against his.  Goku gulps. He can feel the peaks of her breasts rubbing against his chest. The warmth of her core radiating against his twitching groin. He’s tempted to put his hands on her, but he doesn’t know what’s going on here.  He thought they would talk about their kiss before they  _ relived _ it.  Bulma is deliciously soft as her gentle lips graze his.  Her breath tastes like mint gum. She came prepared for this.  There’s something she’s not telling him.

 

He gently removes Bulma’s hands and presses her away to seek her gaze.  “Bulma! What’s going on?”

 

Her hand roams his chest as she looks into his eyes with that piercing blue stare.  He tries to ignore the fiery trail of her fingertips making his nipples harden and his spine tingle.  Bulma latches onto him when he tries to pull away.

 

“This is driving me mad,” Bulma pants.  “I’ve been thinking about you every day since that kiss, Goku. You haven’t come to see me.  You’ve been so cagey on the phone.”

 

“I- I didn’t want you to think I ended it with Chi-Chi all because of you,” Goku says warily.  “I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

 

“Well, I don’t,” Bulma says curtly.  “Chi-Chi made her choice.”

 

Goku licks his lips.  “B-but what about Vegeta?”

 

Bulma responds with a chaste kiss on the lips that pops when she pulls away.  “Not. Coming. Back.” 

 

Goku’s breath hitches.  He’s single. Bulma’s alone, too. He’s devastated and excited at once. It’s really over with Chi-Chi.  There’s no turning back now. But Bulma wants him. She’s in his apartment, smelling of mint gum and exotic perfume.  Kissing him. Goku runs his hand down the smooth curve of Bulma’s back, settling on her hip. Her hand curves around his and guides it lower.  Feeling the swell of Bulma’s ass beneath his fingers makes Goku’s cock twitch and strain against his pants. His breath seizes in his throat. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and grinds against her, unable to control himself.  

 

Bulma’s wide, blue eyes meet his before their lips are a clash of friction.  Tongues, teeth and lips collide in a frenzy. While Bulma’s hand strokes his cheek, her other hand palms the erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans.  Goku releases a strangled moan into her mouth as he runs his fingers through her hair. With the hand on her ass, he gives the fleshy mound a squeeze. 

 

His eyes roll back in his head and he tries to control himself.  Some part of him, way back behind the instinctive, primal part which is fully in control, worries that he’ll disappoint Bulma.  He worries this might ruin the impenetrable friendship they’ve built over all these years. He worries about what she’ll think of him  _ after _ this.  But that’s the part of him that’s tucked away.  The part that’s in control now just wants to fuck her.  

 

He pries his lips from hers, swoops Bulma into his arms and tosses her over his shoulder.  She squeals and kicks in protest, but Goku feels no real resistance as he delivers her to the bedroom with a devilish laugh.  When he tosses her down on the unmade bed, Bulma latches onto his collar and drags Goku down on top of her, wearing a menacing smile.  He rushes to her lips, finding the sublime sensation of her languid kisses. Her tongue traces along his lower lip before he sucks it in his mouth and runs a hand down her side.  He slips his fingers beneath the hem of her dress when he finds it at her thigh. As he slides it up, the sound of Bulma’s breath hitching brings a smile to his face. He growls as he pulls the dress up to her waist, knowing her panties are exposed for his viewing.  

 

Before he can back off to look at her, something catches him.  Bulma’s eyes are mischievous when Goku feels cool air hitting his lower back and soft cotton sliding over his shoulders.  Bulma tears his shirt away from him without ever tearing her eyes from his. Goku lowers his gaze to take in the satin pair of red panties wrapped around Bulma’s hips, wrinkling between her moistened folds.  He looks up into her eyes because he knows he might lose control if he keeps focused on her body. Goku likes the way her eyes focus on his naked torso, flashing in the same way they do when she’s excited to see him or she’s retelling the sexy stories she reads in her romance novels.  He can’t wait to see her reaction when he gets his pants off. His fingers do fast work on the buttons and zippers.

 

Bulma’s hands make equally fast work of removing her dress, exposing her bouncing breasts supported by lacy cups at the same time Goku’s erection springs free from his pants. Bulma leans forward, exposing an eyeful of cleavage as she reaches for Goku’s waist.  He feels a tug. Then a draft on his bared pelvis. Bulma gasps.

 

Goku doesn’t need to question what the gasp means, not when paired with her eyes growing enormous, fixated on his throbbing cock.  He copies her movement, giving a sharp tug to her panties, only sliding them completely off her legs, unlike his boxers which remain stretched across his lower hips.  He doesn’t care to remove the rest of his clothes. He’s about to burst and he hasn’t even touched her yet. He bites his lip and sets his eyes on the nightstand. He needs a condom.  Fast. Bulma follows his gaze and turns for the nightstand. Her ass slides up and down beneath the curtain of her billowing short dress as she bends over and her back arches, causing Goku to hiss through his teeth.  She’s doing that on purpose. He knows it. 

 

But it works.  If possible, he wants her more.  He forces himself to think about old lady Baba and cold showers to calm the growing urge to spill himself all over her.  Without a word of instruction from Goku, Bulma reaches into the top drawer and removes a foil wrapper, tossing it to Goku.  He has it on before she turns around. Goku seizes her by the waist and slides her to him, pressing his naked skin against hers.  He moans, and thankfully, Bulma does the same. He almost thought he was the only one losing control here.

 

“Oh, God, Goku,” Bulma says breathlessly, panting in his ear, “we’re really gonna fuck.”

 

Goku inhales sharply, her words sending a tremor traveling from his spine to the tip of his cock.  “Say it again.”

 

Bulma angles her chin at him, bites her lower lip and says, “Fuck me, Goku.”

 

Goku grits his teeth and presses Bulma to the bed.  His movement is hasty, but not forceful. He’d never hurt her.  But he can’t wait to be inside her. As Bulma pants and wraps her soft thighs around his hips, Goku presses his lips to her mouth again and presses his tip into her moist center.  The sensations of her lips caressing, her thighs embracing, and her wet pussy squeezing in a deep, reverent stroke sets his nerves ablaze. 

 

Goku takes a deep breath as he pulls back.  He’s not ready to handle it when he thrusts again, but he’s too impatient for more.  The sensation is twice as powerful as the first time, causing him to release Bulma’s lips and growl.  

 

“Ohh…” Bulma breathes before swallowing loudly in his ear.  “Fuck.”

 

Goku slams into her as she finishes the sharp syllable, causing her word to cut off with a click as she absorbs the impact of his thrust.  He doesn’t slow down. He rocks into her with even thrusts, finding euphoria every time his hips connect with her. Bulma’s legs seem to tighten around him, but he doesn’t mind the restraint.  

 

He licks Bulma’s neck, enjoying the salty taste of her sweat.  She hums and guides his face to hers with her palm, connecting their lips with an aggressive show of teeth to his bottom lip.  Goku moans while her hips lift to meet his, gyrate and swirl around his cock, and her teeth stretch his lip away from his gums, releasing it with a snap.  Shockwaves travel from his groin to his toes braced on the mattress. His muscles tense and he knows the moment is drawing near. He’s about to-

 

Bulma cries out.  A high pitched, lyrical cry that echoes in his ear as her body shudders all around him.  Her pussy clenches and convulses, sending Goku over the edge of his euphoric peak. He screams as he takes the metaphoric plunge, letting Bulma’s body set him free with a sensation that stays with him long after the initial spasms are over.

 

He collapses on top of her, panting until his heart stops feeling like it’s leaping from his chest, until the afterwaves stop racking his body.  His head is nestled in the crook of her neck. Their legs are tangled comfortably. Bulma doesn’t seem to mind his weight on her as she circles her fingers around a lock of Goku’s bangs touching her chest.  Goku shifts a bit to keep her comfortable, but she breathes calmly, shivering on occasion, goosebumps prickling the soft flesh of her arm draped between them which he strokes with the back of his hand.

 

“Goku,” Bulma says tiredly.

 

“Hm?”

 

When she says nothing, her breath full of hesitation, Goku looks up at her.  Her gaze is fixed on the ceiling, but Goku’s abrupt movement stops her fingers from circling.  

 

“I was just...wondering…”

 

“Yeah?” Goku says, his interest piqued.

 

Her shining blue eyes, tranquil and simmering at the same time, meet his gaze.  “Aren’t you going to invite me to spend the night?”

 

He shoots her a crooked smile.  “I thought you already were.”

 

“You mean I don’t have to talk you into it?” Bulma says with a smile as Goku shifts beside her so they’re face to face.  “I’m good at it, you know. I can make popcorn...we can play whatever video games you want… _ naked _ …”

 

Goku wraps his arm around her and squeezes, breathing in her fragrance and warmth.  “I want this. Just this.”

 

Bulma sighs and curls into him, nuzzling her head below his chin.  “Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> @maiikawriter on tumblr  
> @maiikawriter on twitter  
> crystalmasiello.com for original writing


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